


The Suicide Squad

by lightfriendlydarkness



Series: The Suicide Squad [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 21:18:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2747444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightfriendlydarkness/pseuds/lightfriendlydarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Walking Dead fanfic in which Rick's group encounters a strange team of survivors that call themselves "The Suicide Squad" that promptly drags the group into their own affairs. Rated M for strong language and the expected TWD gore. Rick's group + many OCs</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Wave

Rick was cursing so loudly at himself in his head that he could barely hear what was going on in the outside world. He would have been cursing out loud, but Carl was by his side, and the boy wasn’t quite old enough to start hearing that kind of language come from his father.

Not that it mattered, of course.

They were going to die soon enough anyways.

It was his fault. He’d led them into this city – he didn’t even know the name of the place, they’d been flying blind for so long – promising food, supplies, and safety.

It had seemed empty enough from the outside.

They’d only been in a few blocks when Judith had started crying, drawing the attention of a relatively small herd. Rick guessed that it had probably only been about a hundred or so Walkers at first. They’d all appeared out of nowhere, and some of them had come from behind, forcing the group to take shelter in an apartment building. With each floor, they’d managed to pick off another dozen of the dead, but there were too many of them, and too few bullets.

They’d fallen back (or up, rather) as far as they could, and now they were on the roof and couldn’t go any further.

They were going to die.

They all knew, of course, but they were still getting ready for the last stand: Carol gripped her punch knife, Michonne raised her sword, Sasha took a practice swing as though her rifle were a bat, all while Tyreese and Daryl struggled to keep the door closed and the Walkers struggled to get through.

They were going to die.

And it was Rick’s fault.

“Listen,” he said quickly to Carl, “If it gets real bad, you jump, you hear me? You jump.” Carl nodded, his face white and scared.  
Rick knew it was fucked up. He’d just told his son to kill himself, but he’d be damned if he watched his boy get torn apart by the dead. It would be quicker, less painful, to free fall for five quick stories before hitting the pavement. That was just the awful truth.

“I love you,” Rick heard Glenn say to Maggie.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, almost as white as Carl.

She hadn’t been the same since Beth died. None of them had. The girl had been so sweet and pure and beautiful and GOOD…the world was a darker place without her. They all felt that every day.

And her songs – they’d made things easier sometimes. Maggie wouldn’t sing without her sister. That was something they all missed terribly.

And now, none of it matters, Rick thought sadly, looking one last time at the group that he’d come to love so much, against his own best wishes. He hadn’t meant to get so attached. They’d grown on him far too quickly.

He wanted to apologize, to tell them how sorry he was for causing this, but there was no time. He looked down the side of the building, still trying to find an escape route, but there was none. He turned back, ready to make his last stand with his people.

Then, a small movement down below caught his eye.

He looked down across the street, where four young-looking people were walking out of the building parallel to the one he was standing on. They were talking quietly, moving stealthily, but they clearly thought there was no threat. They had no idea what was going on in the building beneath him.

Rick thought to yell down at them, then caught himself and almost chuckled aloud. He’d been worried about the sound drawing Walkers. What am I thinking? He wondered - The whole town’s fighting to get up here right now.

Just then, one of the people in the street, a tall blonde girl, looked up and saw him looking down at her. She hesitated for a moment, surprised, then grinned and waved up at him as the rest of her group turned to leave without noticing what she had.

The sounds of the Walkers below and the labored breathing of Rick’s group dimmed, and it seemed that the whole world fell away until it was just Rick and the girl in the street, who was still waving. He slowly lifted his hand from the rifle in his grip and waved back as though in a dream.

The girl’s smile stretched wider and she called softly to her friends, just loud enough to get their attention. They gestured to her without looking to hurry and catch up, so she chased after them and grabbed the one closest to her, a tall, well-built boy, and gestured up to Rick, pointing him out to her companion.

What am I doing? He thought suddenly, and the world came crashing back to him.

“Help us!” He yelled down to the four kids on the pavement. No one on the roof responded to his words. They were too busy blockading the entrance, using anything they could find to seal it off.

The blonde girl raised her hand, cupped it to her ear to signal that she couldn’t hear him. That smile was still on her face.

“Help us!” He shouted again, hands around his mouth to amplify the sound.

He didn’t know if his words reached her, but something did. His tone, his stance, the multitude of bodies in the street – something caught her attention, and the smile faded from existence was replaced by a darkness, an intensity in her eyes that told him she knew.

He FELT her say the words – he didn’t just see them on her lips, and they certainly weren’t carried to him on the breeze. He FELT her say to her friends, “Let’s go.” And they followed her into the building without hesitation or question.

Rick only prayed that they would reach his group in time. It was in short supply.


	2. It Did Come

“Help is coming,” Rick told Carl. He could see how much his son wanted to believe him, but there was no hope left in the boy’s eyes.

“It’s gonna give,” Tyreese shouted as the door began to rattle harder. Everyone but he and Daryl back away, creating a tight formation away from the door. The two men held it down a moment longer before letting go and shuffling back to the rest of the group.

The door pushed open as the dead behind it surged forward to find their prey. Rick stepped into the center of the formation so that Judith, who was strapped to his back, would be protected. He held his breath as the horde of rotting flesh made contact with the line in front of him.

Daryl, Carol, Tyreese, and Sasha began to fight furiously for their lives, and Rick felt the haze begin that always fell over him in these situations. It was a wonderful few minutes: when you’re too terrified to think, you wind up feeling nothing at all. Rick loved that – no worry, no fear, just the rush of adrenaline, the spray of blood, and the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears. By the time the first Walker appeared in front of him, ready to be taken, he was already gone, lost to the emptiness that he so often craved.

Their faces all looked the same to him by now: rotting skin, empty eyes, mouths open to take a bite. Male or female, black or white, they were all the same.

He used the butt of the rifle to crack skulls and break faces, barely feeling the blood that misted him each time. Then, the rifle got pulled from his hands. He yanked one of his pistols from its holster and aimed the short barrels for any reddish yellow eyes that came into his vision, stabbing violently to hit the brain behind them.

The others around him were resorting to the same measures. Tyreese and Sasha were double-teaming Walkers with their bare hands. Glenn and Maggie were back-to-back, fending off the dead with some scrap metal they’d picked up. Michonne was the only one that still had a weapon – her trusty sword – but she couldn’t move fast enough to save everyone.

There may have been more of them than he thought, or maybe his team wasn’t as strong as it had been in the past. Either way, they began to lose ground, and the flow of the dead still seemed endless.

_This is it,_ Rick thought. He wanted to turn around and see how close the edge of the building was but didn’t have time. If it wasn’t within jumping distance, he was fucked. _Maybe I could grab a few of them, try to take them with me-_

“Ay yo, bitches!” A very loud voice yelled over the din, getting the attention of the whole herd.

Everything paused. The Walkers turned around to see where the noise was coming from. Rick could have cried with relief.

The four teenagers were standing in the doorway in a small clearing they’d just made, judging from the pile of bodies around them. The waving girl was pointing at the Walkers, challenging them with her body language and the words she’d just spoken, even if they couldn’t understand either.

One of her friends, whose slightly darker blonde hair was pulled up in a high, off-center ponytail, stepped forward. She was carrying a long, sharp metal rod that sparked and crackled with electricity. A line connected the rubber handle in her grip to the backpack she was wearing. As everyone watched, she shoved the rod into the Walker nearest to her; it immediately began to shake and smoke rose from its round head. When she pulled the rod out, the creature fell to the ground, completely fried. The whole process took about two seconds. She looked back at the crowd, adding in a smug voice: “Come get some.”

Most of the herd turned, drawn by the noise and the light from the electric rod. The frenzy began again, but this time, Rick didn’t feel quite so much like he was drowning in bodies. This time, it was easier to stay afloat.

Just as he thought the flow of Walkers would end, his pistol got caught in a skull. Before he could grab his other gun, three Walkers came towards him. He grabbed two, holding them at arm’s length, but the third still came for him. It snapped its jaws loudly, getting closer with each motion.

Suddenly, its head exploded, sending scraps of brain flying towards Rick. As the body fell, time slowed until he thought he could see it moving frame by frame.

From behind the falling Walker rose an object: a huge hammer covered in gore and blood. Gripping the handle was a fist, and his eyes traveled down the arm attached until they met those of the waving girl. She looked hardened and dangerous; there was no sign of the smile she’d had in the street.

The sledgehammer continued to rise until it reached the apex of its ascension, then came swinging back down at what looked like an impossibly fast speed as she turned, backhanding a Walker with full force that was trying to dismember Carl. She let the hammer’s momentum carry it down, then pulled it back up again, spinning back around and smashing in the head of the Walker that Rick was holding with his left hand.

She spun away from him, heading off to deal with other Walkers around her. Before Rick could react and try to get her to come back and knock off the one in his right hand, there was a twang and a crossbow bolt appeared in its eye.

_Daryl ran out of ammo a long time ago,_ Rick thought just as one of the boys from the street ran up and yanked the arrow out of the eye socket without sparing Rick a second glance. Rick finally had a chance to pull out his other pistol and start fending for himself again.

A few minutes later, just as suddenly as the surge had begun, it ebbed and then stopped. The dust settled as everyone waited to catch their breath. Rick looked around, making sure everyone was okay. He found his son and pulled him close, hugging him for just a moment. When they stepped away from each other, Carl smiled up at him, saying with his eyes, “You were right. Help did come.”


	3. The Suicide Squad

Rick continued to scan the crowd, looking over his people as well as the newcomers. The waving girl was leaning heavily on her sledgehammer, surrounded by a puddle of gore. When their eyes met, she grinned.

“Damn,” she gasped, breathing deeply. “I ain’t never been in a fight like that.” She chuckled as her friends made their way towards her. She went to meet them, and they all turned to face Rick, who realized that his group had joined up around him as well.

The two teams stood face to face, eyeing each other distrustfully. No one said a word, just watched to see what everyone else would do first. Finally, Rick decided that somebody should break the silence.

“So, who are you?” He asked, starting off with the basics. He focused on the girl who’d waved as her friends narrowed their eyes at him. She looked like the only one that was even remotely likely to respond.

“Me? I’m just Claire,” she said modestly, pressing a hand to her chest. She stepped forward, closing the gap between them by a few feet. “The real question is, who are **you**?” Her words hung in the air. Before he could respond, she started talking again. “And even more importantly, who are these people?” She gestured to everyone standing behind Rick. “Damn, your posse is tight – I mean, you guys are rolling hella deep. Why can’t we look like that?”

She rounded on her team, examining each of them. She sniffed before saying, “I blame Jonathan. I think it’s the hair.”

“Hey!” The fourth member of the group, the only one Rick hadn’t really observed yet, protested. He was armed with a large wooden bat that had nails sticking out in every direction. The hair in question was thick, black quiff that was too tall to be natural. It didn’t look particularly bad, but it was clear that Claire did not approve. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem is that small animal that you allow to live on your head,” Claire snapped.

“Guys,” the other boy said quietly, “Stop being weird.”

“Yeah, just answer his question,” the girl with the electric rod added, stepping forward. “I’m Cas,” she said.

“It’s short for -” Jonathan began.

“NO!” Cas shouted. “It’s not short for anything. Anyways, I’m Cas, and that’s Elliot. The guy with the hair is Jonathan, as you know.”

“We’re the Suicide Squad,” Claire added gleefully.

“Rick,” the man answered shortly, and the awkward silence descended again. Rick noticed Daryl and Elliot eyeing each other’s weapons. Claire followed his gaze (he’d noticed she had a habit of doing that) and smirked.

“Aww, Elliot, you’re not special anymore.” She clapped her friend on the shoulder. “That’s too bad.”

He shrugged her off, saying, “Whatever. Mine’s bigger. Come on, we should get out of here.” He turned away.

“Hang on, Elliot.” Cas stopped him. “We can’t just leave these people up here.”

“She’s right,” Jonathan said. “They look like they haven’t stopped moving for months.”

Claire frowned. “You’re right, Jonathan. They’re so dirty.”

“And they have no ammo,” Cas added. “If we leave them like this, they’ll just wind up dead and all this work on our part will have been for nothing.”

“We can’t afford to take them in,” Elliot argued. “There are nearly ten of them! We don’t have the food, or the space.”

“Oh, stop,” Jonathan cut him off. “We have more space than we know what to do with, and we can use the backup food stores to feed them. There’s enough time before winter that we’ll be able to replenish them.”

“They’re suffering, Elliot,” Claire pointed out. The way she said it sounded significant somehow, like it meant something different to her than everyone else. Elliot, however, must have understood the connotation, because he hesitated briefly, then nodded.

“We stick to the Code,” he agreed, still sounding a little reluctant.

“Great! I’m glad we all agree!” Claire clapped her hands.

“What do we do now?” Cas asked, darting her eyes towards Rick’s group.

“What about not talking about us like we’re not here, for starters,” Daryl snapped from Rick’s side. Claire took a step back, but she looked at him like one would look at a frightened animal: her eyes were full of pity.

“Would you and your group like to come back to our camp with us?” She addressed Rick in a voice that was suddenly shy; he didn’t think they’d had much experience with asking people to join them.

“Do you mind if we ask you some questions first?” He replied.

“Please do,” Jonathan answered.

“How many Walkers have you killed?”

“Too many to count,” the teenagers all said at the same time. Claire laughed aloud with delight, ignoring the tension in the air.

“How many people have you killed?”

They had to think about that one for a minute. Cas answered first: “Two.”

Claire said, “Seven.”

Jonathan guessed, “Probably four.”

Elliot counted on his fingers for a moment before answering, “Nine.”

“Why?”

“They would have killed me,” Cas said.

Claire nodded. “They would have killed me.”

“They would have killed me,” Jonathan repeated.

“They would have killed me.” Elliot hesitated, then added, “Or they were already dying.”

“We make him take out our own when they get bitten,” Claire explained. “He’s the only one with the guts for it.”

“Is there anyone else in your group?” Daryl asked gruffly.

“Just two more,” Jonathan answered.

“They’re homebodies – they don’t get out much,” Claire added. “But they haven’t killed anyone, not ever. They’ve killed Walkers, as you call them, defending our turf, but other than that, they’re clean.”

Rick turned to his group. “What do you think?” He asked them quietly.

“Sounds too good to be true. I don’t think we should trust ‘em,” Daryl replied immediately.

“They’re just kids,” Michonne whispered. “We can take them if it turns out to be a trick.”

“Why would it be a trick?” Glenn asked. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“If they wanted us dead, they wouldn’t have bothered saving our lives,” Maggie agreed in her thick Southern drawl.

“Carol?” Rick looked for other opinions.

“It sounds nice,” she shrugged, not meeting Daryl’s eyes. “We’d have a place to sleep for a few nights, and look at how clean they are. Wherever they’re holed up, they must have running water. We could get clean, have something to eat, and then be on our way.”

“I agree with Michonne,” Tyreese spoke up. “If something goes wrong, we can get the hell outta Dodge and we’ll be no worse off than we were before.” Sasha simply nodded, always one to agree with her brother.

Rick looked back at Daryl, who nodded resignedly. Whether he was convinced or defeated, Rick couldn’t tell, but they were in agreement. He wasn’t about to make another executive decision.

“We’ll go with you,” he told the Suicide Squad. The words were met with smiles, and in Elliot’s case, a slightly disgruntled nod.

“Excellent!” Claire clapped her hands.

“Follow us,” Jonathan said, already heading downstairs. Everyone complied, and Rick hoped they weren’t making a mistake. Cas seemed to hear the thought, raising an eyebrow as he passed by.

_It’s going to be fine,_ he decided, resting a hand on Carl’s head as they tromped down the stairs. _It has to be._


	4. Welcome Home

They began the trek out of town, encountering a few Walkers, but nothing serious. Elliot walked alone on the left flank, still not sure whether he was okay with the adoption that had just taken place. The company was nice, for sure – at least, he could tell the other were enjoying it. Jonathan, Cas, and Claire were mingling with the new group, but he just couldn’t warm up to strangers that quickly.

_Think about it logically_ , he told himself. _A larger group technically makes us safer. But we’ll also be louder, so maybe not._

_It’s a little too late for second thoughts,_ he decided. _Claire was right, we stick to the Code. We all made it together and it hadn’t failed us yet, so I guess I’ll have to trust it now. If we didn’t have a code, we’d be just like all the people we’ve had to kill._ He shuddered slightly.

“Watcha thinkin’ about?” A voice spoke. Elliot jumped slightly and looked around. The angry man from earlier had snuck up on him. His crossbow was slung over his shoulder; Elliot tried not to look at it. He shrugged by way of answer, but his silence didn’t deter the man.

“Elliot, right?” He asked. “I’m Daryl.”

“Hm,” Elliot replied, not really in the mood for conversation.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” Daryl pointed to Elliot’s crossbow, which was down at his side. Now, **that** wasn’t something that Elliot minded chatting about.

“This is my baby,” he said proudly, lifting it up and patting it gently. It was black with chrome trim, and the bolts in the quiver on his back had black shafts to match and synthetic feathers that were neon green. Daryl tried really hard to not look impressed. “Carbon steel, very lightweight, with a 130 draw weight that gives it about a 50 yard range at 300 fps.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“It was at my house, but none of us ever used it. It was just for show, but when shit started going crazy, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to learn.” He paused, then added (because he felt obligated), “What about you?”

Daryl shrugged. “Life at home was kinda rough. My dad gave me this so that I could feed the family. It’s still keepin’ me alive, even after all this time.”

They walked in silence for a while until Cas came up. “Hey Smelliot, Claire asked me to ask you if you want to take point since we’re about to hit the town.”

“Sure,” he replied, asking Daryl, “Wanna come?”

“Why not?” The man kept up with Elliot as he trotted up in front of the group. When they were out of earshot, he asked, “Smelliot?”

Elliot shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Fair enough.”

The town was unusually quiet, which Elliot decided to take as a good sign. They made their way straight home, so it was only a few minutes before the school came into sight.

“That the place?” Daryl eyed the building.

“Yeah.”

“It’s big. How do you keep it safe?”

“Most of the pods that contain classrooms are blocked off, although they don’t open to the outside. There are only two entrances that can be used. Everything else is sealed tight.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Two, two and a half years. The other members of our group have been here the whole time, but they weren’t doing so well when we showed up. We helped them out, and they allowed us to stay.”

“And how long have you been with kids?” Daryl gestured over his shoulder.

“Since the beginning, almost. Cas and Claire were friends in the old world, and they found me a few months after everything fell apart. We picked Jonathan up about six months ago,” he added.

They headed towards the side of the school, where there was a set of doors. Daryl noticed that Elliot started looking around suspiciously, mostly at the roof, but before he could ask why, a quiet pop sounded and a puff of dirt exploded at the young man’s feet. He jumped slightly, then shook his head and chuckled.

"What was that?” Daryl hissed, drawing his knife.

 “Don’t worry, that was just our sniper. She likes to do that to me.”

 “Why?”

 “Because she thinks it’s funny. She’s kind of a weird lady.”

They reached the doors and waited for the rest of the group to catch up. Elliot stood by a panel that was glued to the wall that held a red button and a speaker; a wire ran from the panel through the doors. When everyone was standing around them, Elliot pressed the button and a voice came through the speaker.

“Coming in?” Someone who sounded very bored asked.

“Yup,” Elliot responded.

“Who are all those people?”

“Just a group that need our help,” Elliot replied. He figured describing Rick’s people as “some strays we picked up” wouldn’t go over with them very well.

“Okay, come on in, I guess.” There was a quiet click as the door unlocked, and Elliot pulled it open.

“Well guys, welcome home.”

… 

**Hello everyone! Thanks so much for reading. I thought an explanation of what’s going on is probably long past due, so here you go. This story is a little project of mine that I decided to do because the mid-season finale of season 5 left me feeling a little empty. The characters that make up the Suicide Squad represent me and a few of my good friends. If they say anything that offends, I apologize, I’m just doing the best representation of them that I can. You’ll understand what I mean better in the next chapter. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review if you have a second. Thanks again!**


	5. Safe

Daryl’s first impression of the school was that it looked like a death trap. Once inside, though, he realized he had been completely wrong.

The doors opened outwards; through them was a wide hallway. There was a door immediately to the right, but it was blocked off and roped shut. Another small hallway branched off to the left and ended shortly after.

“Welcome to the band hallway,” Claire spoke from behind them. “We’ll be going through the next door on your right.”

“What are these silver squares on the floor?” Glenn asked, looking down.

“Live explosives,” Cas replied calmly. Her words, of course, sparked a lot of shouting and outrage.

“What the hell?” Daryl yelled, checking to make sure he wasn’t standing on anything silver. “What is this?”

"Don’t worry, you can’t set them off,” Elliot calmed everyone down, shooting Cas a dirty look. “They’re inactive right now.”

“Where’d you get explosives?” Rick asked.

“And the know-how to wire them?” Maggie added.

“The man upstairs wired them for us,” Claire answered proudly. Rick’s group shared a covert, questioning glance amongst themselves. Despite their secrecy, Claire caught it and laughed.

“There’s a man who lives in the ceilings of the school,” she clarified. “I think he used to be a janitor here or something. We hardly ever see him, but we let him eat our food and in return, he set up these sweet little mines. They’ll only be activated if Walkers get in.”

“You’ve got this place locked down,” Daryl remarked, impressed in spite of himself.

“We’ve been here long enough,” Cas responded dryly. “It took time, but we’re safe here now.”

“Come on, come on!” Claire said impatiently, skipping through the group and disappearing through the next door on the right.

There was something about the girl that was off – Daryl didn’t know what it was, but she wasn’t right. He didn’t think she was dangerous, and she **had** been the one to lead her friends up the building. Still, she seemed unbalanced.

The other boy, Jonathan showed up beside him. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said in a low voice as the group made its way after Claire.

“What, you a mind reader?” Daryl asked, disgruntled.

“No, I can see it in your face. She’s not crazy,” Jonathan promised. “She’s a little strange, yeah, but not crazy. Just wait until you meet our sniper, then you’ll see what crazy looks like.” He followed Claire without another word, leaving everyone scrambling to keep up.

Daryl followed cautiously, reluctant to lose sight of the door despite the fact that the kids seemed harmless enough. Still, he made his way into what he figured was the band room. He’d never been much of a music fan himself, but the room was nice enough. It had a high ceiling to match the large space. The floor was tiered, and the bottom level was still home to the conductor’s podium. There were no chairs or stands, but even Daryl could imagine the music that had been made in the room so long ago.         

“We were all band kids in the old world,” Cas said as everyone slowly made their way down the stairs just inside the double doors. “That’s probably why we feel so comfortable in here.”

“Are there instruments in those?” Maggie asked, eyeing the lockers that covered the walls.

“Yes, lots. We consolidated the mass of them into the low brass lockers, over there.” She pointed to the far right wall. “We use the high brass and woodwind lockers for storing stuff that might come in handy someday.”

“We never play anymore, though,” Elliot said, a little sadly, “Because we don’t want to attract attention to ourselves. Cas has a guitar that she breaks out sometimes, and they sing a lot.” He gestured to Cas and Claire, “But other than that, we try to keep quiet.”

Daryl felt Maggie stiffen, even from a few feet away. He suppressed the urge to do the same – the mention of singing reminded them all too much of Beth.

Claire was on the move again. She disappeared through a doorway to the left and knocked on a door just inside. “Come out and say hello,” she called to someone, and Daryl heard the door open.

“Fine,” the bored voice that they’d heard through the speaker responded. Claire skipped from the hallway and was shortly followed by a young man of average height with thick, wavy black hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a surprisingly clean Hawaiian floral print shirt that hardly matched his demeanor.

He stood in front of Rick’s group, who had made it down the steps and didn’t know what to do next. He looked over each of them, his face never changing from its indifferent expression. Before anyone could speak, steps sounded from down the hallway, rapidly approaching.

A young woman appeared and stood next to the man in the Hawaiian shirt, examining everyone. “Well well, who’s this?” She asked with a grin.

“Some people we found,” Cas answered.

“How nice,” the woman responded as though she hadn’t really heard the words. She rested the rifle in her hard over her shoulder so that everyone could see the long barrel and high-tech scope attached. Daryl could see now how she could be so precise from such a large distance.

“You know what they say,” the woman continued, “The more the merrier! And what a diverse group,” she added. “Very impressive. I’m J, but the way, and this is Isaac.”

Rick nodded hello casually, but Daryl could tell that he was overwhelmed. “I’m Rick. This is my son Carl, and that’s Daryl, Carol, Glenn, Maggie, Sasha, Tyreese, and Michonne.

“I’m never going to remember all those names,” J said bluntly, her smile never wavering. “And where are you from that uses a sword like that?” She asked Michonne, squinting at her weapon. The other woman glared back, but J didn’t seem to care. “Well, I’m going back up. Make yourselves at home.” She clapped Isaac on the back and left the way she’d come in.

“Can you get them settled?” Isaac asked Elliot, already halfway back into his room. “I need to watch the cameras.”

“Come with me.” Elliot waved for everyone to follow as he headed for another door halfway across the room on the left side. The hallway behind it split off into a row of four small rooms, which Claire explained belonged to the four teenagers. The other branch led into another large room.

“This is the jazz room,” Elliot said, gesturing to the empty space. The wall to the right was covered with towels and sheets, but a few streams of light still came through the windows behind them. A piano was pushed up against the door across the room that appeared to lead directly outside. The wall to the left had more lockers, which Claire opened and began pulling out all kinds of blankets and pillows.

“Sorry if they smell a little,” she said. “They’ve been in here for a few months.”

“It’s okay,” Rick said quickly, and everyone else nodded speechlessly. Cas squinted at them suspiciously.

“How long has it been since you all had a place to stay?” She asked, and they all looked at each other. Daryl thought all the way back to the prison, how simple things had been for such a short while.

“Too long,” he grunted, and the teenagers seemed to understand.

“Well, you’re safe now,” Claire said. “Why don’t you guys get yourselves settled, and once you’ve rested we’ll see about getting some food into you.”

The young adults removed themselves, and Rick’s group started spreading out and putting down bedding. Daryl drifted to the corner, wondering how long this would last. All the other promises of safety had ended in death and sorrow. Could it really be different this time?


	6. The Code

Carl watched the teenagers leave the room curiously. It had been so long since he’d seen someone close to his own age, ever since Beth…

“Carl?” His father asked, shaking him from his thoughts. “Can you help me set up over here?”

He went to the older man, but he didn’t have much interest in laying out blankets. “Um, dad?” Rick looked up, sensing the hesitation in his son’s voice. “Can I go talk to them?” He nodded after their hosts.

Rick frowned, but nodded his consent. Carl grinned and ran from the room. Cas, Elliot, Jonathan and Claire were all headed to their respective rooms along the hallway outside the jazz room, and the boy hesitated as he tried to choose which one to follow. The sparking of Cas’s rod deterred him, and Elliot had made it pretty clear that he didn’t much care for the newcomers. Jonathan’s door closed quietly, which left only Claire. He trotted over and hovered outside the small room as she leaned her sledgehammer against the inside wall.

“Nice hammer,” he said, and she jumped a little.

“She has a name, you know,” she replied in a mock-hurt voice once she’d recovered from her surprise. She pushed her hair over to one side of her head; Carl watched as it caught the light, almost fading to white.

“What is it?”

“Mjölnir,” she grinned, taking off her backpack. “What do you fight with?”

“I mostly just use these.” He held up one of his pistols, and she nodded.

“So you’re more a ranged guy, not melee.”

“Uh, I guess.”

“Not much into video games, are you? We have a TV set up; we could play together sometime. If you don’t mind losing, that is.” She unzipped her backpack and pulled out a rolled-up piece of paper. “Just kidding, I’ll go easy on you until you get the hang of it.” She flattened out the paper, revealing a large poster that advertised some movie.

“I bet I beat you first try,” Carl boasted.

“Oh really? We’ll see about that.” Claire got on a chair and starting taping the poster to the only free space on the wall. Every available area was covered in drawings and wall hangings.

“What’s the poster from?” He asked.

She shrugged. “No idea, I just thought it looked cool. Soon I’ll have to go to the ceiling,” she added, glancing around. “You can come in, by the way.”

He obliged, sitting down carefully on the cot against the back wall. He tried to think of something to say, some way to start a conversation. He didn’t want her to feel the same way about him that Elliot probably did. “You’re pretty well settled in, aren’t you?”

She snorted. “Like Cas said, we’ve been here long enough. If we weren’t comfortable by now, it would be pretty sad.”

“Do you think you guys are going to be safe here until the end?”

“The end of what?” She asked, getting down and stepping back to admire her work.

“You know, the end of all this.” Carl waved vaguely. “The Walkers and everything.”

She turned her head very slowly and looked at him with a strange expression. Neither of them said anything for a moment, and Carl started to get a little freaked out. Then she moved towards him, sitting down and angling her body so that she was mostly facing him.

“You think there will be an end?” She asked, and Carl couldn’t tell what her tone of voice meant.

“Of course,” he said. “This can’t last forever, can’t it? Only, don’t tell my dad I said that. I think he thinks I’ve given up hope, and it would probably make it hard for him to know I still believe in a better future.”

Claire smiled as tears welled up in her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but Carl noticed. He tilted his head questioningly, and she laid her hand gently on the side of his face, saying, “Never give up hope, Carl. It’s hope that guarantees a brighter future, always remember that.”

He nodded, not really sure why she was so upset, but what he’d said obviously meant a lot to her. She smiled again and moved her hand away, looking up at the ceiling. Carl thought she was going to say something else, but she was quiet. Then he realized she was making plans for what to put up there; he’d already lost her attention and he really wanted to get it back.

“How could I give up hope when there’s still so many pretty things in the world?” He asked, heart in his throat.

“Pretty things? Like what?” She asked, still distracted by the prime estate above them.

“Like you,” he said, and Claire laughed.

“You think I’m pretty?” She grinned, but before he could respond, Cas was walking through the door without bothering to knock.

“We’re going to take everyone to the kitchens to get something to eat, wanna come?” She addressed Carl in a monotone.

“Sure, I’m starving!” He jumped up, then looked back to see if Claire was coming too. She noticed his glance and stood obligingly, giving Cas a small smile over the boy’s head.

They joined Rick’s group and headed to the cafeteria, where all the food was still stored. “Normally we’d keep careful track of how much food is eaten, but it’s not necessary right now,” Jonathan announced to everyone. “Take whatever you want.”

The shelves in the storage area were stuffed with food. After everyone in Rick’s group had eaten all they could hold, they’d barely made a dent in what was there. Carl himself found the rather large pile of candy bars and helped himself to all the Snickers he could find.

...

By the time everyone was done eating, it was already nightfall. Their hosts led them back to the band room, and they sat around in a circle chatting happily. Everyone was talking to everyone and Carl couldn’t help but grin as he saw the two groups getting comfortable around each other. Even J and Isaac came out to socialize, although the latter still ostracized himself from the rest.

Sometime later in the night, after Carl had started to feel sleepy, Rick happened to ask J what “the code” was that the teenagers had referenced earlier. She responded by staring at him for a solid few seconds before yelling, “He wants to know what The Code is,” to everyone nearby.

The chatter slowed to a stop as everyone looking around, wondering what the noise was about. Jonathan, Claire, Cas, and Elliot made their way to stand around J, but Isaac stayed away, saying in a cynical voice, “Oh, you’ve done it now.”

“The Code,” Claire said, shooting him a dirty look, “Is a list of rules we’ve compiled for ourselves over the past few years. It reads as follows.”

Then they spoke in unison: “Number one – I will be polite. Number two – I will not lie. Number three – I will not dishonor the dead. Number four – I will not take the life of the living unless absolutely necessary. Number five – I will end the suffering of the dead or the living if I am able.”

“It’s just a little thing we made to keep ourselves from being like them, you know?” Jonathan asked.

“How did you come up with the rules?” Rick asked, yawning a little.

“Oh, you know,” Elliot waved his hand vaguely. “They’re just things we thought were important at the time. The first two came from Claire and Isaac, and then we added on from there.”

“Above all things in this dirty, wicked world,” Claire said with venom in her voice, “I cannot stand a liar.”

Isaac shrugged. “I just hate it when people are rude. But nobody likes that, really. You know what Hannibal did to the rude.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me if you went down that path, buddy,” J chuckled, slapping him on the back. He made an uncomfortable face and shuffled away. “Well, I’m going to bed,” she continued. “There’s no need to keep watch, by the way, the alarm system will alert us if there are any breaches,” she informed Rick’s group, already halfway towards her room. “See you all in the morning!”

One by one, everyone made their excuses for needing to sleep and shuffled away, until it was clear that the night had come to a close. Carl hung back with Claire, trying to wait until no one was around before saying, “Goodnight,” in the most casual way he could manage.

“Goodnight, Carl,” she said with a smile, waving as she headed for her own room. “See you in the morning.”

Carl laid down next to his father, surrounded by the soft breathing of those who were already asleep. It was so warm and safe that he didn’t even realize he was falling asleep until he began to dream.


	7. Breakfast

Cas woke up earlier than usual, still on edge from the day before. It was different having so many people nearby, but she was pretty sure she liked it.

When it was clear that she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep, she got up and headed to the band room. Isaac was already skulking around – he’d always been an early riser. She sat next to him under the railing by the chalkboard.

“How are you doing?” She asked quietly, her voice echoing in the silence. She’d learned a long time ago that loud noises startled him, even in the middle of the day. That’s why the camera room was good for him; she couldn’t imagine staying shut up in that little space all day, but he enjoyed it.

“I’m alright. They’re very loud,” he added thoughtfully, guessing at what she’d really been asking, “But they seem nice.”

She smiled. “Good, I’m glad. Maybe the company will be good for you.”

He shrugged listlessly. “I’m not sure if anything can be good for me anymore.”

“Don’t say that,” she insisted.

“Did you know,” he replied, “That in one of the African countries, the day started when the sun rose, and not at midnight? Just one country, in the middle of the continent, where the day started six hours later than all the rest. Fascinating.”

“Do you remember which country?” She asked, trying to indulge him.

“No.” She’d never heard him sound so sad as when he had to admit that he’d forgotten something.

“Maybe you could find it in the library or something,” she suggested. “You should get some books, it’ll give you something to do while you’re in that tiny room.”

Their quiet conversation was interrupted when the door to the practice rooms opened and a few of the newcomers came out. Cas was terrible with names, but she knew for sure that two of them were brother and sister, and she thought the third might be called Carol.

“Good morning,” Cas smiled, standing to greet them. “Are you guys hungry?” They responded by nodding sleepily and rubbing their eyes. “Come on, I’ll take you down to the cafeteria.” They followed her from the band room like sheep as she led them to food.

“How did you sleep?” Cas asked over her shoulder to break the silence.

“I woulda slept better if _somebody_ hadn’t been snoring all night,” the younger woman said pointedly to her brother. He either didn’t hear or was ignoring her on purpose, because he didn’t respond. She added, “ _All night,_ Tyreese,” to get his attention.

“Sasha, if it had really bothered you, you would have moved away,” he said gently.

Tyreese and Sasha. Cas made a mental note as they entered the cafeteria. “Do you want eggs or something? I can scramble pretty well,” she boasted. Before they could respond, there was a loud clatter as a pot fell in the back room.

The newcomers immediately shifted into their fighting stances, but Cas was a little slower to draw. “Hello?” She called out quietly, holding out a hand to keep Tyreese from stalking forward.

A large figure shuffled from storage, hiding in the shadows. “Who’s there?” A soft, frightened voice responded. Cas smiled with relief.

“Don’t worry, it’s just Cas.”

“Who are those people with you?” The figure shambled closer.

“Some people we found yesterday,” she explained, waving for Tyreese, Sasha, and Carol to relax. “They’re friendly, you just startled them.”

“Oh.” The figure finally came into the light, and a large man was revealed. He had a large beard was scruffy but not unwashed. It and this thick-rimmed glasses hid the roundness of his face, which was framed by hair that probably would have been curly if it hadn’t been so long. His warm brown eyes shone through all the hair, smiling even though he looked somber.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, raising a hand in greeting. It was attached to a muscular arm – as well-built as the rest of him – and Cas wished for about the tenth time he would come down and fight alongside them. He was spectacular in combat, but Cas had only seen that spectacle once and didn’t expect to see it again; not unless the man in the ceiling’s life was on the line.

“It’s alright,” Carol said with a tiny smile. “I guess we’ve just been out in the world too long.”

He nodded solemnly, but didn’t respond. Cas could tell he’d had just about enough human interaction for one day. “I was just getting some snacks,” he told her, holding up a few granola bars.

“That’s fine. You’re always welcome to anything.”

 “Thank you.” He hesitated, and Cas thought he might stay a while longer, but his reclusive nature won out. “Well, I should probably be getting back. Lots to do.”

 “Okay. See you around.” They watched him amble away until he rounded the corner and was out of sight. Cas took a breath and asked again, “So, eggs, anyone?”

…

 When they’d found some food and had begun to eat, Sasha asked Cas, “So who is he?”

 Cas shrugged. “We don’t know. He was here when we showed up, but other than that, we’re in the dark. You saw how he was; it’s taken years to take the relationship that far.”

“So he just hides in the ceiling all day and takes your food?” Carol asked. “Doesn’t sound very brave.”

Cas shrugged. “I don’t think he’s worried about being brave. He’s just trying to survive. I think something happened to his family,” she added, “Something that he saw but couldn’t stop.”

They nodded somberly, understanding exactly what she meant. From down the hallway sounds of life could be heard, and it wasn’t long before everyone else starting filing in two or three at a time. Rick came in carrying a crying Judith, which no one was too happy about. Then Elliot broke out the baby food they’d found just two weeks before and everything was peaceful again.

Normally Cas, Jonathan, Elliot and Claire all sat together, but when everyone had taken a seat, Cas noticed that the pattern had been broken. Across from her, Jonathan and Elliot were taking turns cracking jokes, trying to make Michonne laugh – so far, they’d been sadly unsuccessful. Claire was at the end of the table next to the kid who’d been hitting on her the day before.

“I don’t believe this,” Cas muttered to herself. She waited until Rick got up for seconds, then stalked around the table. She surreptitiously turned down the voltage on her electric rod so it would sting but not damage, then walked by, casually brushing it against Carl’s back.

He jumped and yelped, but everyone was talking loud enough that the noise got swallowed up by the general din.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know it was on!” Cas apologized quickly.

Carl frowned but shrugged it off. “It’s okay,” he said, turning back to his food. Claire, however, was not so easily fooled.

She stood and walked out of the cafeteria, with Cas close behind. “What was that about?” She snapped once they were alone.

"You know what it was about,” Cas retorted. “Why didn’t you sit by me?”

“Because I wanted to sit by Carl,” Claire shrugged. “Why, are you jealous?” She asked with a grin. When Cas didn’t answer, the smile slid away. “Oh, come on. You can’t be serious, he’s just a kid.”

“But do you like him?” Cas asked.

“He’s a sweet boy, of course I – ”

“But do you like him?” She repeated.

Claire huffed an impatient sigh. “No Cas, I don’t like him. Damn, what’s gotten into you?”

“I guess I’m just not used to sharing you. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“Good.” A playful expression stole over Claire’s visage. “You know, he did call me pretty. That was nice. You never say I’m pretty.”

“You’re pretty, Claire.” Cas responded in a monotone, and the other girl laughed.

“Be still, my heart!” Claire leaned in and gave Cash a gentle kiss on the cheek. “He’s just a kid who needs a friend, Cas. No need to get all green on me.”

“Ha, ha.”

They rejoined the crowd, taking their respective seats. Cas started taking turns trying to make Michonne laugh, feeling much better.


	8. Countdown

Go in, sit down. Cas isn’t mad any more so everything is fine again. Carl is trying to make me laugh. Laugh even though I don’t know what he said and my heart hurts a little because Cas thinks I would give her up so easily.

She is the only thing that matters. The only life I’ve valued more than my own. Sometimes I want to tell her but I know she would think I’m crazy.

I am not crazy. I’m Claire.

Who am I? Claire.

Sometimes it gets a little difficult to remember.

“How old are you?” Carl is asking.

“Maybe eighteen or nineteen,” I respond. “It’s a little hard to keep track.” Was that a normal answer? I feel a small jolt of fear. It’s the same every time I speak out loud.

Who am I?

I’m Claire.

“That’s pretty young. You don’t see many people our age anymore,” Carl says thoughtfully. He sounds somber. Should I ask? I know I shouldn’t.

I do anyways. “Have you known any?”

He nods. “A couple. Noah, he died a month or so ago. And then there was Beth.”

Beth. I’d heard Maggie whisper the name in her sleep. I’d kept watch over all of them, unable to close my eyes with all the new people right across the hall and it was nice looking out for them, like I was an angel.

I glance over my shoulder to see if I have wings. Nothing. I wish I could fly away.

“Who was she?” I ask quickly, even though I don’t mean to. I’m trying to get away from the Weird Thought, a thought that a normal person would never have so the fewer I get, the more ordinary I am.

Who am I? Claire.

“Beth was…a good friend.” His heart hurts; the pain shows in his voice. Why did I ask, why? Before I can apologize, a noise in the background demands to be heard.

“What’s that?” Carl is pointing to a blinking red light near the seam of the wall and ceiling. I am standing before he finishes.

Cas and Jonathan and Elliot are running already. Rick shouts at me, asks what’s happening. My hands are shaking from the adrenaline.

Gunshots come from outside the building. “Stay here. It’s in the center of the building, you’ll be safer here,” I tell him quickly. “Keep them safe. Stay here.” No time to wonder whether I sounded normal.

I run to catch up with the others. Who am I? Claire. My heart is beating so loudly I can barely hear myself think. Claire.

We rush to the supply closet at the end of the band hallway that now serves as our armory. Isaac is already there, loading a pistol. He must have left the camera room right after he set off the alarm. “It’s them,” he said, and my heart jumps, pounding wildly. I’d heard the words before he’d said them, known what was happening before he’d spoken, but they still scare me.

I want to tell Cas to stay behind and wait it out. I can’t stand to see her get hurt but I know it would just insult her and she’d never listen anyways so I keep quiet. I grab for weapons blindly. I am uncomfortable around so many firearms but Mjölnir is useless in a fight like this so I have to put up with it.

We run to the band room. The curtains over the windows are riddled with holes and as we watch a few more are added with loud gunshots. We all share a look of wordless agreement, then cross the room and start peeking between the seams of the cloth. There are a lot of them, these people who are our enemies – maybe three dozen or so. They are heavily armed but they’re in the open, obviously unaware of the predator that waits above them like a leopard, waiting to fall out of its tree and snap their necks. J hasn’t fired a shot yet which means she’s probably waiting for us to return fire first.

Elliot releases the first bullet that rips into a young man’s leg and after that I can’t keep track of the details because there is so much happening at once. We are all shooting at each other and despite the efficiency of our weapons the air fills with smoke like Isaac once said happened all the time during the Civil War. The good thing is that none of us can shoot each other accidentally because it’s clear we’re on the same side which I think is proof that the rise of the dead didn’t send us too far back in time.

A Weird Thought at a time like this is bad and I’m about to tell myself to stop but then there’s a different sound, a deep one that shakes the earth a little, and a large chunk of glass is blown away. I feel cold. They have big guns. The windows can’t hold up for much longer.

Through a gap in the smoke I see that their numbers have diminished greatly – there are probably about twenty left, and as I watch a shot that comes from nowhere takes out another. J is working her magic from the roof.

Just then there is another different sound, but it isn’t a new weapon. It is a soft thud and I’m surprised I hear it because there are so many gunshots. I know what this sound means. I do not look because I know what it means and I do not want to know any more. Someone shouts next to me and close to the floor and I can’t help but look.

It’s Jonathan. Half his neck is missing and there is a pool of blood spreading around him but he is already dead. I feel relief because he did not suffer and guilt because I am glad that it wasn’t Cas. Elliot is next to him. He knows it is too late. He stands and puts a bullet in Jonathan’s brain. There is even more blood.

Now they have killed 4 of ours in total. I feel my cold fear turning to red-hot rage. We could make this the last time.

“Fuck this, I’m going out there,” I say. They must notice that we’ve stopped firing because they cease too and everything would be quiet except my ears are ringing like a church bell on Sunday.

“Are you crazy? You’ll be killed for sure,” Cas snaps, and there is suddenly a bitter taste in my mouth.

“I am not crazy,” I say back. “They will come again and kill us all unless we show them that we’re stronger.”

Isaac says, “You’ll die, Claire.”

“J is up there, she’ll cover me. If you guys don’t fire randomly, try to take precise shots, then I’ll be able to take them out. Keep up a strong assault until I get out there so that I can take them out from behind while they’re reloading.”

“It’s not exactly foolproof,” Elliot says grimly, but I know I’ve already won him over. It has to be me that goes out because no one else will.

Maybe it’s because I’m crazy. At least I know if I die, the rest of them won’t be completely fucked because they’ll still have each other.

Cas hands me her knife and I sprint across the room to get Mjölnir. She might not be too good in this new fight either but it’s better to be safe than sorry. I head straight for the door, and Cas shouts, “Hey!”

I turn, worried that she might forbid me from going because if she did then I know I won’t be able to leave her. But she just says, “Remember the mines are armed. It’ll be faster and safer to travel downstairs.”

I nod and am gone before anything else can be said. Rick and Daryl are standing in the large area outside the hallway, probably trying to decide whether they should go help. “Get back in there,” I insist, pointing to the cafeteria. “You need to take care of your family. I’m going to take care of everything.”

I’m running again, heading downstairs like Cas suggested. I make it outside and run around almost the entirety of the school, circling around our attackers. There is a small ridge just behind them that I can hide behind without too much trouble. The firefight has started up again and I am protected while I’m hidden, but I won’t be able to signal to the others without exposing myself.

In a brief lull I risk raising my arm and waving, praying that the attackers are facing away from me and that one of my friends notices. A bullet hits the dirt a few feet away from me and I smile because I know at least J has seen me. A moment later, the shots slow down as our counter strike becomes more calculated.

Soon enough, a middle-aged woman starts backing up towards me, reloading her weapon. When she is close enough, I grab her ankle and pull her down with enormous effort, severing her spinal column at the neck with Cas’ knife before she can scream. It’s almost too easy. I pick off three more the same way, then peek out. There are eight left. I decide the risk has diminished enough to make a grand entrance.

I stand and rush out, swinging Mjölnir at the young man closest to me. I catch him on the back of the head and he goes down just as another turns around and sees me. He shouts, getting the attention of his friends, then raises his gun, but I am too close. I swing, knocking the weapon out of his hand and catching him off guard. I backhand him on the upswing and he falls.

Six left.

A shot from the roof takes out someone behind me that I assume was about to blow my brains out.

Five left.

Someone inside the building takes a crack shot that hits one of them in the back and knocks them down.

Four left.

A man runs at me, slicing my arm with a sharp knife. I don’t feel the pain, just the warmth of the blood that surges from the wound. He turns to face me just as there is another shot from the roof.

Three left.

I see movement out of the corner of my eye and just the nature of it makes me afraid. It is a person walking, but I know right away that person is not alive. The gait is too irregular.

The noise has drawn the dead.

They are coming in a horde from the center of town, the only place where we haven’t been able to clear them out. There have always been too many. And now they are here.

The attackers see them too, and I can tell they are more afraid than I am. I take advantage and strike down a girl my age who can’t look away from the herd. It’s a cheap shot but I can’t bring myself to care anymore.

Two left.

A figure slips from the building, heading straight for the dead. I can’t see who it is.

They both run at me, still holding their useless weapons. One man manages to land a punch that probably could have broken my arm if it had had more power behind it. On his next pass, I manage to catch his shin and there is a loud crack. As he falls J ends his life.

One left.

He tosses his pistol away and I drop Mjölnir because she will just slow me down. We circle each other slowly, and I try to get as many rotations as possible in so I can see who is was that came out of the school. Whoever it is, they are facing the herd alone, and I can see body parts flying but I don’t know who they belong to.

The man is speaking to me, probably taunting me, but I do not know what he is saying. My blood is pounding in my ears. I can hear every heartbeat. A volley of shots come from the roof, but they don’t land near us. Instead, the dead begin to fall. J knows I can handle this last survivor on my own.

He swings, and I’m caught off guard. His fist connects with my mouth and I reel backwards, knowing that if I fall I will probably never get up again. He’s laughing at me, but when he sees that I am still standing he sobers again. The fight is not over.

Still, he has damaged my ego, and now I am on the offensive, slicing at him repeatedly with Cas’ knife. He ducks away, keeping his distance. I take the time to press my first two fingers to my lower lip and they come away red.

Now it’s personal.

As he runs at me, I notice a slight limp, a tendency to favor the right leg. I duck out of the way, using my smaller size to my advantage. I kick his right knee from behind, causing it to buckle. He goes down quickly, and I am on him in an instant. I punch him in the face as he tries to gain his bearings and drive Cas’ knife through his temple.

I stand up and my ability to feel begins to return. My mouth is sore and there is blood running down my chin and my arm is definitely bruised. I look over at the herd, but there is only a pile of rotting flesh. The man in the ceiling is walking towards me, a little shaken but mostly unhurt, and I realize that he was the person who came from the school.

“You killed them all,” I realize out loud. He shrugs and points to the roof modestly, but I know that J couldn’t possibly have killed as many as he did.

The curtains over the band room windows are moving, and I know my friends are trying to get a clear view of us. I grin and wave towards where I think they are to let them know we’re okay, but I stop when I see a vague reflection on myself in the glare. My smile is tinged with blood. I look mad.

“You should get back,” the man in the ceiling says. I nod and start walking, picking up Mjölnir on the way. I’m surprised when he keeps pace with me like a silent bodyguard, and I wonder if he’s finally tired of being so isolated. 

…

I push my way through the crowd that has gathered around the band room doors. Rick is in the front, and he watches silently as I go to join my friends. They are standing around Jonathan’s body.

I know there was probably a time when Rick’s group wouldn’t have done as I had ordered, they would have come out and helped us. But now they were too cautious because they’d lost so many of their own people and they still didn’t know us too well. I hadn’t wanted them to risk their lives and they hadn’t wanted to either. I didn’t blame them at all.

I look down at Jonathan’s body, which is in bad shape although it’s not the worst I’ve seen. His blood is drying quickly, already fading to black.

J says, “That blood is never going to come out of the carpet,” and we all nod somberly. There is nothing to say now that hasn’t been said before.


	9. The Aftermath

After the Suicide Squad had taken care of Jonathan and made sure all their attackers wouldn’t turn, they sat in the band room in complete silence. Rick’s group joined them, nothing bothering to offer any words of empty sympathy. Elliot could tell Claire was itching to speak, but she managed to keep herself under control. It didn’t matter, really; they were all thinking the same thing.

Finally, Cas asked, “What are we going to do?”  

“Oh, come on,” Claire snapped, “You know what we have to do. We have to destroy their fucking nest. If we don’t, they’ll come back and kill us all.”

“You don’t know that,” Cas argued. “They might back off after what happened today.”

“They might now,” Isaac said quietly. Everyone looked at him, shocked. “They’ve been getting bolder recently. They’ve never attacked us at home before. Now they’ll know we have weapons that are worth fighting for. They won’t stop with this defeat.”

“So you agree with her,” Cas noted. “You think we should go kill all those people?”

He shrugged. “Before today, I’d never killed anyone. If taking more lives is what must be done, then I guess that’s what we will do.”

J nodded. “It’s common sense, really,” she added thoughtfully.

Everyone looked at Elliot, wanting his opinion. “All I can say is, we have to stick to the Code,” he said. “If we know beyond a reasonable doubt that they’ll come back and destroy us, then we should strike first.”

“Of course they’ll come back,” Claire responded. “If for no other reason, it’ll be because we just massacred their people on our fucking front lawn.” She gestured as though she was pointing through the wall to the grass that had just been bathed in blood.

“We wouldn’t have had to do that if they tried to shoot down the door,” J pointed out.

“Bach lived from March 1685 to July 1750,” Isaac contributed helpfully to the conversation.

“They probably wouldn’t have attacked us if we hadn’t left them that note,” Cas replied.

“It was a bluff! We had no way of knowing that they’d take us so damn seriously!” Claire protested. “Besides, we wouldn’t have left the note if they hadn’t fucking killed Jareth and Christopher and Johanna.”

“Okay, first of all, we don’t even know for sure that they killed Johanna,” Cas pointed out, but J snorted, cutting her off.

“Who else would have done it?” She asked.

“I don’t know, maybe one of the billions of mindless flesh-eaters wandering around out there!”

“They killed her,” Michael, previously known as the man in the ceiling, spoke quietly.

“What did you say?” Elliot asked, unsure whether he’d heard correctly.

“I saw them do it,” the older man closed his eyes and nodded slowly. “Through one of the windows.”

“And you never thought to tell us about this?” Claire snapped.

He leveled his cool gaze at her, unfazed by her tone. “I knew that if I told you, it would only perpetuate the conflict. I thought by keeping it from you, I would protect all of us from more unnecessary bloodshed. Clearly, I failed in that regard.” Everyone looked at each other and sighed, unable to argue with his logic.

Daryl saw their lapse in conversation as an opportunity. “Any of you care to tell us what the hell’s going on here?”

The Suicide Squad looked at Rick’s group as though they’d forgotten they were even there. “Of course,” J said in a voice that clearly said she didn’t appreciate the interruption. “Shortly after Isaac and I decided to make our base here, we became aware of another group that was making its home in the other empty high school across town. We went over to investigate, but they didn’t care to make friends. They were more content to stick to each other – they were the wary sort, if you understand me.

“Anyways, we kept to our respective sides of town and everything was fine for a while. These three showed up, along with Jonathan and a few other kids. The group across town was growing, too, and tension started to rise when everyone began to realize that there weren’t enough resources in the town to support everyone forever.

“One day, one of the kids unintentionally strayed over to the other group’s side of town, and were shot down. We thought it might have been an accident, but after two more of ours were killed, we knew there would be trouble. The last one, Johanna, was taken just over a month ago. We were suspicious of them and thought that they’d had something to do with her death, so we left a threatening note saying the usual hostile stuff: That we’d kill them all that that kind of thing. We didn’t really mean any of it, we just wanted them off our backs. But I guess they actually started to take us seriously after that, hence the event that occurred today.”

“And now we’re trying to decide whether to attack them at home and kill every last one of them,” Isaac added brightly.

Elliot saw Rick and Daryl exchange a glance. He wasn’t sure yet how he felt about destroying the group across town, but the more he thought about the memory of Jonathan lying on the floor with parts missing, the more he thought Claire might be right.

“Sounds like you guys have quite the fight ahead of you either way,” Daryl said quietly, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Care for some help?” Rick asked.

“We couldn’t ask you to risk your lives for us,” J waved them off. “It’s out of the question.”

“Not all of us have to go,” Daryl pointed out. “We can ask for volunteers.” He looked around at his friends. “Any of you feel like it?”

Tyreese and Sasha nodded, along with Carol and Michonne. Glenn and Maggie stayed quiet. Rick told them, “You can take care of Judith while we’re away,” and they seemed happy to.

“What about me?” Carl asked his father.

“We can talk about it later,” he responded. To the Suicide Squad, he added, “I just have one request of you: put off your assault for three days.” They tilted their heads in confusion, silently asking why. “There are a few other members of our group that we had to split up with a few weeks back,” he explained. “We have a meeting place; it’s the town not far from here where we separated. If you can wait until we find them and bring them back, we can make it worth your while.”

“Great, more strays,” Elliot muttered to himself, but quietly enough so that no one else could hear. “At a time like this.”

“And why would it be worth our while?” J asked.

“We can bring you some serious manpower,” Daryl explained.

“I think we’re nearly set there,” Claire said, gesturing to everyone that wanted to go.

“You’re only saying that because you’ve never met Abraham,” Rick told her. “The guy’s a fucking tank.”


	10. Misery Business

Three days later, Cas and Claire accompanied Rick and Daryl to the place where they were to meet the rest of their group. While the two men stood around stoically, waiting for their people, the girls scampered about in the shadows of a nearby apartment building. They chased each other around for a while, then sat in the parking lot and talked.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Claire asked quietly.

Cas looked at her, surprised. They hadn’t talked much in the past few days, but they’d been so busy with clean-up and getting ready for the impending assault that there hadn’t been any time. “Why would I be mad at you?” She asked.

“Because of this attack,” Claire waved her hands. “You didn’t want to do it.”

“Oh, that. I mean, I saw the sense in your argument the whole time, but I just thought we were being too hasty. And I kept thinking about when we first met Rick and his group, and the questions they asked us. We hadn’t even killed two dozen people combined. Now who knows how many it’s been, and who knows how many it will be after we fight them.” She shrugged. “I guess I was just worried that we’re turning into monsters or something.”

Claire drew her knees up to her chest and rested her cheek on them. “We can’t turn into monsters now,” she sighed, “We’ve made such an effort to stay human over these years.”

Cas stroked her hair gently. “Don’t worry about it. Everything’s going to be fine, I promise.”

The other girl perked up. “Did you hear that?” There were some quiet groaning sounds coming from inside the building.

They got up and went in to investigate. Just through the main entrance, there was some evidence that someone had already been here; a few Walker bodies lay scattered about the floor. Cas went over to check on one, noticing the bullet wound just between the eyes. “I think the other group might have been here,” she muttered to Claire.

“We’re almost five miles from the school,” Claire responded just as quietly. “They’re really reaching out.”

The groaning grew steadily louder. It was coming from a staircase that led to the first floor of apartments. “They must have left a few when they cleaned this place out,” Cas noted, upping the voltage output from her battery.

Five Walkers fell down the stairs, picking themselves up and shambling towards the girls. Cas fried two of them to a crisp, ducking out of the way of the third and finishing him off as well. She turned, looking to make sure Claire was okay, just in time to see her smash in the head of the last Walker rather brutally with a calm smile on her face.

She wiped Mjölnir on the already blood-soaked carpet, then looked up just in time to see Cas give her a weird look. “What?” She asked innocently, heading for the door.

Cas followed her out of the building, noticing that a new car had arrived and that Rick and Daryl had been joined by what she assumed was the rest of their group. “You’re real strange, you know that?” She asked as they made a beeline for the newcomers.

Claire hefted Mjölnir over her shoulder. “Hey, just because I’m in the misery business doesn’t mean that I can’t have a good time.” She hesitated outside the circle that Rick’s group had formed, waiting to be noticed.

“And here are our hosts,” Rick said, catching her eye. “Everyone, this is Claire, and that’s Cas.” The circle opened slightly so that they could join. “Ladies, this is Abraham, Rosita, Tara, Gabriel, and Eugene.” Abraham looked over the girls with a slightly scornful expression, which Claire and Cas met with unyielding gazes. Rosita and Tara seemed nice enough, and Cas judged from Gabriel’s suit that he was a pastor, so she didn’t think they’d have any trouble from him. Eugene didn’t look up when his name was called; Cas wondered briefly why, but was distracted when Rick continued, “I was thinking you two could take Abraham and Rosita in our car, and Daryl and I will ride with the others in theirs. That way everyone will be caught up on the situation when we get back to the school.”

“Sounds fair,” Claire said.

“We should leave sooner rather than later,” Cas added, squinting up at the sky. “I’d like to be home before dark.”

No one could argue with that, so they headed for the vehicles and loaded up. Cas got behind the wheel and started the car, leading the way back to the school. She’d loved to drive in the old world, and it was mostly the same now. It calmed her and gave her time to let her mind wander. She tuned out the conversation going on behind her; Claire was explaining everything that was going on and Cas really didn’t need to consider the situation for the thousandth time.

The sun was just started to sink below the horizon when they pulled up to the school. Rick and Daryl parked next to them and everyone climbed out. “Come on inside and we’ll give you the grand tour,” Claire said, beckoning for the newcomers to follow her.

She rang the doorbell, and Isaac answered promptly. “Coming in?” There was something different about his voice now, an excited aspect that hadn’t existed a week ago.

“Yup.”

“Any problems?” His voice grew quieter as he leaned for the button.

“None at all.” The door unlocked with a click and Cas reached for the door, pulling it open quickly. She held it as everyone filed through, catching a glimpse of Abraham’s expression. He looked impressed despite himself.

She smiled slightly. _Oh, you have no idea,_ she told him silently as she followed him into the building, letting the door slam shut behind her.

... 

**I just wanted to send a huge shout-out of thanks to everyone for reading. Every time the number goes up, my heart does a little dance. Special thanks to user mishafer for such a kind review which only made me cry a little bit.**

**I think this fanfic may be nearing its close, although there are still a few chapters left before it gets to that point. I hope you all continue to enjoy it until the end. Thanks again – I love you guys.**


	11. The Cure

The next day, everyone began preparing for the attack. It turned out that Abraham was more than willing to fight, although Carl was convinced that he would fight anyone, if just for fun. He spent over two hours in the Suicide Squad’s armory looking over their weapons; it turned out they had a lot of firepower hidden away. Ironically, they’d found most of it at the local sheriff’s station. Carl’s father had almost laughed when he’d heard that.

Carl got ready like the rest of them, deciding that it would better to be prepared if his dad did allow him to go. He knew that Rick had seen him loading weapons a couple of times, but he hadn’t said anything. As far as Carl knew, his dad was FINALLY letting him grow up a little.

Gabriel was being his usual useless self. He’d gotten better over the past few months, Carl noted, but he still wasn’t up for a fight like this. He’d killed a grand total of four Walkers one at a time, and Carl was pretty sure at least two of them had been on accident.

He didn’t get very many chances to talk to Claire, and when he tried, she was distant. He figured she just had a lot on her mind, since she’d just lost her friend and they were about to wage war on the group across town. In fact, everyone seemed a little worried.

Everyone except for Isaac, that is. He seemed happier than he had when they’d first met him. He bustled about, humming what sounded like jazz melodies under his breath. He suddenly became someone of a mother hen; he made sure everyone was getting enough rest and not working themselves too hard, he brought around snacks and drinks every few hours, and most importantly, he checked everyone’s weapons to make sure they were loaded (with the safety on, of course).

Carl asked Claire about it, but she didn’t have a good explanation. She shrugged and said, “Maybe he’s just glad to have a job. He hates to feel useless.”

Carl could understand that reasoning. Now that he was finally able to make his own decisions without his dad choosing for him, he felt like he was actually worth something to everyone. In the back of his mind, he realized that his heroism could end in his own death, but he was too excited to care. 

…

The morning of the day that they’d decided to attack, everyone gathered in the cafeteria to eat breakfast together. The atmosphere was surprisingly jovial; Carl was amazed by how casual they were all being, laughing and joking. Eve Michael was talking to the people around him. Now that he’d jumped headfirst into the metaphorical pool that was socialization, he seemed to be adjusting very well to the water.

Everyone appeared animated and happy. Everyone but Eugene, of course. Carl watched as he stood up to get some food, only be to promptly shouldered aside as Abraham passed him. Carl clenched his hands under the table but said nothing. It wasn’t his business and besides, Abraham was huge and angry. He’d get over his hurt feelings towards Eugene eventually.

Carl turned to Claire to tell her a story or something, but stopped when he saw her face. She’d seen the whole thing and was still watching curiously, analyzing the exchange. He was sure she’d say something about it but she kept quiet until the opportune moment, which arrived a few minutes later.

She told a joke to the entire table, dirty enough to be considered vulgar, but not dirty enough to offend. Everyone laughed; everyone but Eugene, of course. Claire zeroed in on him immediately.

“What’s wrong, Eugene?” She asked innocently. He didn’t look at her, and he was unaware of the part he was playing in the trap she was setting for Abraham. “Didn’t you think my joke was funny?”

“Risqué humor isn’t my forte,” he mumbled.

“The only thing Eugene finds funny,” Abraham said a little too loudly, “Is telling people elaborate lies.”

“Oh really? She asked, raising her eyebrows. She didn’t seem to mind that everyone had gone quiet to listen to their conversation. “I can’t stand a liar.” She leveled her gaze at Eugene, eyes sparkling despite her harsh tone. “What did he lie about?”

Abraham smirked, thinking she was on his side. “He told us that he knew how to cure the world of the virus. He said he was a scientist working for the U.S. government on sophisticated chemical warfare. Turned out he’s just a good liar and that he just ‘knows things.’”

“What did you say?”

“I know, it’s disgusting,” Abraham said, glaring at Eugene.

“No, he thought he knew what the cure was, is that what you said?”

“No,” he snapped, “He never knew, that’s what I’m telling you. He was making it up the whole time; there is no cure!”

“Oh,” Claire said, tears welling in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Rosita asked, thinking that Abraham had hurt the girl’s feelings somehow.

“You’ve all been going this whole time thinking there’s no cure?”

“Why do you say it like that?” Maggie asked suspiciously.

“Because…” she trailed off, looking at Elliot out of the corner of her eye. He gazed back at her, blank-faced.

“Go on,” Sasha urged, but Claire wouldn’t say any more.

“Because there is a cure,” Cas said loudly, despite Elliot’s sour look. Everyone was so quiet that the creaks of the building around them sounded deafening.

Then Eugene raised his head. “What did you say?” He asked in his thick drawl.

Elliot sighed. “These two think – ”

Cas interjected, “We KNOW – ”

“THINK that it may be possible to destroy the virus,” he concluded.

“Because we have hope,” Claire said quietly.

“You’re just looking for something to believe in,” he retorted.

“You’re wrong,” Cas said. “It’s possible.”

“You’re trying to find a light in the dark,” he shot back, and it looked like it would evolve into a full-blown argument, but Rick stepped in.

“Stop,” he demanded. They fell quiet, and he added, “Explain.”

“Go on,” Cas said to Elliot, and his eyes narrowed angrily.

“You tell it,” he snapped angrily.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t talk about it, and you know that!” He shouted, and she put her hands up quickly.

“Okay!” Claire said, glancing at both of them and making gestures telling them to settle down. “Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll do it.

“We had a friend a while back, Christopher. He was bitten.” Everyone in Rick’s group started to arrange their faces into the appropriate sympathetic expression until she said, “But it didn’t kill him.”

“What?” Michonne asked in a low voice.

“It didn’t kill him!” Claire insisted. “I mean, there was the bite itself, but the infection never started. And we were smart about it; we watched him really closely for weeks, but he was fine. He was immune. At the time we didn’t think anything of it, because we were just happy that our friend was okay.

“He lived for quite a while after that. Then he got shot in the head about 8 months back by those bastards most of you had the pleasure of encountering. Cold blood, from behind. He wasn’t even armed.” Elliot turned his back to everyone, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Anyway, it wasn’t until after he was gone that Cas and I started thinking that there may have been more to that whole situation than we initially realized. There was something about him, something in his blood or his brain, or maybe his bone marrow, that made him different. We got to thinking that maybe if someone with the know-how could have taken it out of him and put it in somebody else, maybe…”

“The cure,” Daryl said roughly, like there was something caught in his throat. Claire and Cas nodded somberly. Carl felt his heart stop, then start again, faster than before. Blood was pounding in his ears.

The cure.

“We were going to start looking around for other people that were immune,” Cas explained, “But you’re the first friendly group we’ve come across since them.”

“So, any of you ever been bitten?” Claire asked, only half-joking. Everyone shook their heads.

“And there you find the root of the problem,” Cas said. “The only way for us to know if someone is immune is if they survive being bitten, but of course, no one’s willing to take that risk.”

“Maybe not,” Eugene said. Abraham scoffed, but Cas stood up and walked over to him, sitting next to him. He wouldn’t meet her eyes, but she took his hands, frowning sideways at Abraham. “Go ahead,” she said reassuringly.

“Take blood and tissue samples from every individual,” he explained. “Keep track of who they’re from, keep everything organized. Expose the samples to cells taken from the dead.”

“If they react, then you know you’re in danger,” Claire continued the thought.

Cas stood up and began to pace. “But if they don’t, then that individual could be immune.”

“You’d need additional testing to be sure,” Eugene suggested.

“You think it would work?” Rick asked the Suicide Squad. They shrugged.

“I passed chemistry with a solid A-.” Claire held up her hands. “I’m no expert, but it sounds safe enough to try.”

“Eugene?” Cas asked, “If we were to get you the equipment and the samples, would mixing them and analyzing the reactions be one of those things that you know how to do?”

He nodded. “I’ll surely try, ma’am.”

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Tyreese said softly.

“Yeah,” Sasha answered. “It means we can’t kill any of those people in the other group.”

“Why?” Abraham demanded, but the answer struck him before anyone could explain.

“It could be one of them,” Maggie replied anyways, “Any one of them could be the cure.”

“That means we can’t just go in there guns blazing,” Daryl added. “We’ve gotta capture ‘em, and that’s a lot tougher.”

Despite their misgivings, Carl could feel himself coming alive. Every movement, every breath, stimulated the beating of his heart. And with each beat, he spoke the words to himself as a reminder of hope: The cure.


	12. Birthday

Everyone wants to go over the plan again. I don’t. I go wandering through the school, going everywhere without meaning to go anywhere.

When we talk about tomorrow it makes me sick. The waiting makes me nervous. I’m so afraid that someone will get hurt or die that it’s almost overwhelming. What will I do if something happens to Cas? I can’t live in this world without her. The plan is sound. I don’t trust it. It can’t go as perfectly as it should.

Still, I can’t wait to fight. It won’t be as fun as before because I’m not allowed to kill anyone but it will still be exciting. Across the hall is a person facing away from me. I stalk closer and punch her in the back of the neck. She falls. She has my face. I look reproachful.

“Claire, why are you doing this?” The other me asks from the floor.

“I have to protect the people I care about,” I say automatically.

“Why? What have they ever done for you that’s worth you risking your life?”

“They’ve kept me sane,” I mutter.

The other me laughs. “They haven’t done a very good job, have they? Look at you, you’re crazy.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I snap.

“Who are you talking to?” I don’t reply. “Claire, who are you talking to?”

It’s Cas. I turn around and she’s there. Real. “Just myself,” I say casually, pointing to the other me. She looks, and I know from the look she gives me that she doesn’t see anything.

In a terrifying moment of clarity, I see how truly fucked up I am, and how much worse it’s becoming. Now I’m seeing things that aren’t real, and I didn’t even notice. How many other hallucinations have there been?

“You found her!” a voice that’s full of joy calls out, and J, Elliot, and Isaac are there.

“Have you told her yet?” Elliot asks.

“Tell me what?” I ask curiously, glad for the distraction. Cas is watching me. Her eyes are narrow and angry but she’s already moving on.

“That’s a no!” Isaac shouts, snatching my hand. “Come with us!” He pulls me away without any more words. They take me through the band room to the music library, which has been closed off for a long time. Maybe a year. Two? Three? How long have we been here?

Who am I? Claire.

I’m losing track.

“You ready?” Cas asks. Her soul is shining through her eyes like stars. She’s so beautiful it hurts.

“Yes?” I reply.

The door opens and I’m pulled through. It takes a while to understand what’s happened. The old filing cabinets that are full of classical sheet music are against the far wall. An even larger number of new ones has taken their place. The room is lined with them.

I walk to the cabinet closest to me and look at the top label which reads “Die Antwoord – Arctic Monkeys” in Elliot’s careful print. The next cabinet over begins with an entire drawer of The Beatles. Under that it’s “The Beastie Boys – Bill Withers” and then “The Black Keys – Bush, Kate.”

“Is this what I think it is?” I ask. My eyes are stinging and my nose is burning.

“We updated the music library!” J says excitedly. “It’s mostly modern stuff now, but Isaac and I insisted on throwing in some jazz and classical.”

“They’re all bands that you like,” Cas added, just as enthused.

“You did this for me?” They nod. “Why?”

“You don’t remember?” Isaac asks.

“Claire, today’s your birthday!” Cas reminds me.

“Wait, really? How do you know?”

She looks down sheepishly. “Well, it’s not actually TODAY. I mean, I guess it could be, I have no idea. But it’s somewhere around this time of year, and since…we don’t know what might happen tomorrow, we thought this was the best time to show you.”

I am overwhelmed. “Thanks you guys!” I say, but they wave away my thanks.

“You have to listen to something,” Isaac tells me, leading me to the center of the room. There’s a few portable CD players with headphones and enough batteries to last at least two years. “We hoped that you wouldn’t mind sharing a little,” he adds to explain the extra players.

“Of course,” I reply as he pushes me into a seat.

“Good. Now, what would you like to hear?”

A minute later, I’m listening to music, real music, for the first time in years. It’s even harder not to cry now. The mournful voice in my ears asks, “If you close your eyes/Does it almost feel like/Nothing’s changed at all?”

My friends begin to file out one by one, leaving me to the new sounds. Cas gives me a kiss on the head and says, “Happy birthday” quietly.

“Leave her alone,” Elliot reprimands her. “You’re ruining the moment. You know what that is?”

“Shut up,” she growls.

“It’s a CATASTROPHE,” he says, leaping from the room as she starts to chase him. He knows the nickname bothers her. “Cas” is a safe abbreviation and we get away with it but the original still makes her angry. I should be backing her up, but I can’t bring myself to take the headphones off.

I push the thought of tomorrow’s attack out of my mind for the time being. Whatever happens, I am happy now.

“Happy birthday to us,” the other me smirks from across the table. I blink at her. I know she’s not real, but the knowledge doesn’t make her disappear. From what I can tell, she’s not dangerous, so for the time being I ignore her as well.

I’m Claire. Not her.

Who am I?

Claire.

 

**Hello everyone! As always, thanks for reading.** **Claire and I have something in common – today’s my birthday! As a present to all of you, I am finally, FINALLY updating. I’m sorry about the delay. I’m chronically unmotivated, and school doesn’t help at all. Hopefully the last few chapters will come quicker. Anyways, enjoy and have a great day!**


	13. Invasion

They arrived at the other school before dawn broke the next day. Cas had never been so close to it before, and she felt very uncomfortable. She realized that for all the planning they’d done, there was no way to know what they’d be facing once they made it inside.

She was going through the back with Sasha, Tyreese, and Michael. The right side of the building was covered by Carol, Carl, and Gabriel, the left by Claire, Elliot and Isaac. The crazy team, which was going through one of the front entrances, was made up of Rick, Daryl, Abraham, and Tara. Everyone was falling into position. They’d snuck around the school until every group was outside their respective entrance and were now waiting for Rick’s signal. His group was going in first as a distraction so that the other teams could sneak in with less trouble. They were the most heavily armed, but they would be inside with no backup for several minutes. Cas prayed they’d be able to find a place to hunker down, otherwise it would be a blood bath.

“You nervous?” Michael asked Cas quietly.

“Yup,” she replied honestly, passing their walkie talkie back and forth between her hands.

“Me too,” he said. Tyreese and Sasha were quiet, but Cas could feel their tension.

A movement at the top of the building caught her eye. She looked up to see J climbing onto the roof. The woman stood, brushed herself off, and began walking around, probably looking for a way into the building.

“What’s she doing?” Sasha hissed. “Rick hasn’t given the signal yet.”

Cas shrugged. “She does whatever she wants. Don’t worry, she can take care of herself.”

“What if she gets in the way?” Tyreese asked.

“Don’t worry,” she repeated. “It’ll be okay.” She could tell they were still skeptical, but they didn’t question her.

There was silence as the last few minutes dragged on. Cas could practically hear the heartbeats of her teammates; she wondered if they were as nervous as she was. When the walkie talkie finally crackled to life, it made them all jump, although they all pretended nothing had happened.

“Team One ready,” Rick’s voice reported quietly through the device.

Cas quickly pressed the talk button and replied, “Team Two ready,” as calmly as she could.

Carol’s voice added a moment later, “Team Three ready.” Claire reported for Team Four shortly after, and J checked in from the roof just after that.

“Good luck, everyone,” Rick said, and Cas gripped her gun tightly. There were a few more seconds of silence in which she thought her heart would explode from her chest. She wished they could run in right in right away and avoid this waiting.

“Okay, we’re going in,” Rick said, and Cas closed her eyes and began to count to ten.

One, two, three, four, five, six...Gunshots nearly broke her concentration. Seven, eight nine…Someone screamed. Cas winced and lifted her hand. The rest of the group shifted behind her. Ten.

“Team Two is going in,” she said into the walkie talkie, lowering her hand. She jumped up and ran to the building, the rest of the group close behind her. Just before they reached the school, a shot rang out from the roof, followed by a loud clang. Cas aimed for the lock on the door just as J’s voice came through, saying, “I’m in.”  
Cas squeezed the trigger and felt her pistol kick. She tried again, still moving towards the door, and this time she heard a clunk as the lock snapped. She pulled the door open and everyone ran in. As it closed behind her, the walkie-talkie buzzed.

Carol’s voice spoke. “We’re moving.”

After that, it was quiet. If Cas listened hard, she could hear the shots coming from the front, even at this distance. She took that as a good sign; it means someone from Team One was still alive.

She turned the radio down as they stalked through the hallway. A few seconds later, Claire said, “Team Four is heading in.”

“We need to hurry,” Sasha whispered. “We’re furthest from the front.”

Cas nodded, but she didn’t know how to get where they needed to be. This school was bigger than theirs, and she had no idea how to navigate it. Michael came to the rescue. He took the lead quietly and began guiding them through the maze.

They went uninterrupted until Michael went around a corner and, without warning, a shot rang out. He fell back, clutching his shoulder.

“It’s just a scratch,” he assured Cas when he saw her frozen, horrified face.

“Can you help him?” Cas managed to ask Tyreese, who nodded as a few more bullets ricocheted down the hallway.

Cas tried to look around the corner, but was shot at as soon as her head was visible.

“Did you see ‘em?” Sasha asked, readying her rifle.

“Barely. There are at least four,” Cas replied. The hallway across from them was empty, and Cas looked at it critically, forming a plan. “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” she told Sasha, “I’m gonna run across there, into that other hallway, to draw their fire. I need you to shoot at them, but try not to hit them. Their hands and weapons are fair game, but nothing fatal.”

“Are you crazy?” Sasha hissed incredulously. “Those will be crack shots at best! There’s no way I can aim that fast.”

“You have to.” Cas laid a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “Don’t think, just shoot. I believe in you.”

“I'll help,” Tyreese said, appearing next to his sister. Michael was leaning against the wall. They’d bandaged his shoulder pretty well, but he was in no condition to fight.

“Okay, here I go,” Cas said, taking a few steps back to get a running start. The siblings leaned forward, ready to fire. They nodded, and Cas took off, sprinting across the hallway as fast as she could.

Immediately, the small space was filled with the amplified sound of dozens of rounds being fired. Cas felt something brush by her face, but there was no pain. Someone at the end of the hallway screamed; a second later, another shout of pain echoed through the hallway.

Cas made it to the other side, and the sounds of gunfire died away. She touched her face and looked at her hand; there was a little blood, but she was okay. Just then, someone from the other group yelled, “She shot my hand!” Cas grinned and gave Sasha a thumbs-up.

She peered around the corner, trying to evaluate the situation. It looked like someone had been killed, and two others had been shot in their hands and arms. Another guy, who appeared to be unscathed, was kneeling by the dead body. As Cas watched, he stood and put a single round though his fallen comrade’s head. He turned and began walking back to his living associates, who were clearly in no condition to fight.

“Go, go go!” Cas mouthed at Tyreese and Sasha, and they all sprinted down the hallway towards him. By the time he heard their footsteps, it was too late.

“Drop your weapon!” Cas said when he turned around, pointing her own gun at his head.

When he hesitated, Sasha added, “You’ll be dead before you can get a shot off. Just put the gun down.”

He sighed and knelt, setting his gun on the floor, then stood with his hands up.

“Are those two the only people of yours here?” Cas asked, gesturing to the two men with bleeding hands. He didn’t answer. She huffed and walked closer, leveling her gun with his right eye and pulling the trigger back slightly. “Are they the only other ones here?” She repeated tiredly, trying to convey that his life was of no consequence to her. Of course, she couldn’t really kill him, but he didn’t know that.

“Come out, Alex,” he said, and a young man came out from around the corner, holding a rifle carelessly in his left hand.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, pointing to a hole through the bottom of the barrel. “One of ‘em shot right through it.” He tossed the firearm away. “I almost got you, though,” he said, pointing as Cas’ face. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

She turned the voltage on her battery pack down to a low setting and poked him in the side. He jumped away, yelping “What the fuck?” Cas was already gesturing for Tyreese to attend to the injured men. "Now, why don't we all go join the party?"

"You're too late," he replied, "Your friends will be dead before we get there."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," she replied, gesturing for him to walk towards her. He complied, standing in front of her and turning around. She put one hand on his shoulder and her gun to the back of his head. "We need to go," she told Tyreese, who was hastily wrapping the injured men's hands. "Can you look after both of them?"

"They're not going anywhere," he said grimly, dragging his charges to their feet. Sasha poked the remaining man with her rifle, and he stood in front of her. Michael went to the center of the group, ready to lead the way.

"Well, don't ya'll run a tight ship," Alex drawled, and Cas jabbed him with her gun.

"Quiet," she ordered. To the whole group, she said, "Let's go!" and they trotted off down the hallway. The sounds of gunfire had slowed significantly, which worried Cas.

"At least we know one of them is still alive," Sasha said, which was probably meant to be reassuring.

"They won't be for long," Alex told her, and Cas poked him again. "Ow!"

 _Why didn't we go in the front?_ She asked herself, picturing the Suicide Squad going in instead of Rick and Daryl. It wasn't their fight.

“Don’t worry,” Michael said as though he could read her mind, “We’re almost there.” The sounds of gunfire had gotten louder suddenly. They rounded a corner and came to a large, circular atrium dotted with Greek style columns; dozens of people were weaving through and hiding behind them.

Cas caught a brief glance of Rick as he dove for cover before Alex yelled to his fighting comrades, “Behind you!”

There was a sudden silence as the everyone whipped around and everyone pointed their guns at each other. Cas kicked in Alex’s knees from behind, forcing him to a kneeling position. She aimed her weapon straight down at the top of his head and yelled, “Drop ‘em!” The other group hesitated and looked around, unsure of what to do. A shout came from the right hallway and Carol, Carl, and Gabriel appeared in the opening; less than ten seconds later, Claire, Elliot and Isaac came in from the left.

“You surrounded!” Rick’s voice rang out as he, Daryl, and Abraham came out from their hiding places. Cas felt her stomach drop when she didn’t see Tara, but the girl followed more slowly, clutching her thigh. Rick continued, “Drop your weapons and no harm will come to any of you.”

“What do we do, Robert?” A woman asked quietly. The man she was speaking to sighed and began to drop his arms.

“Do I have your word?” He asked Rick.

“Of course,” Rick nodded.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Alex sneered from his position on the floor.

“Shut up,” Robert and Cas said at the same time. Claire snorted, obviously trying to hold back a giggle. “I’m trying to keep us alive,” Robert added. “Everyone drop your weapons.” His people put their guns down and Cas felt her heart grow lighter.

That wasn’t so bad, she thought as their prisoners lined up along one wall. Abraham and Daryl searched them while Carl and Gabriel readied some rope they’d brought to bind their hands. Everyone else watched, still on alert.

Isaac said quietly, as though to comfort himself, “William Howard Taft was the first president to throw the opening pitch of the Major League Baseball season.”

“What year was that?” J asked, trying to encourage him.

“1910,” he replied. “Every president since then threw an opening pitch at least once during his time in office, with the exception of Jimmy Carter.”

“Where the fuck does all of this come from?” Claire asked, leaning in close as though she could see into his brain. “Seriously, what the fuck? Do you know **everything**?”

“Hardly,” he replied, looking at the floor. “I just really like history, you know that.”

She shrugged. “You seem to be leaning more towards the ‘obsessed’ side of the spectrum, just saying.” She wandered over to the prisoners, looking over each of them. Cas followed her. “Isn’t it amazing?” Claire muttered to her. “Any one of these people could have the potential to have the entire world.”

“Such as it is,” Cas pointed out.

“Oh, don’t be that way,” Claire pouted. “There’s still beauty here, you just have to look harder to see it.”

“I guess.” Someone called Cas’ name and she turned away.

“Do you wanna drive on the way home?” Rick asked. They hadn’t planned this far ahead in the operation, having no way to know whether they would all live or die.  
She replied, “Sure, why not?” J grinned at her; she was probably the only person who knew how much Cas loved to drive.

“Do we have enough food to provide for all these people?” Elliot asked suddenly, and everyone scoffed.

“Is that ALL you think about?” Cas asked him derisively. She looked over at Carl to wink at him just as his eyes began to widen and he lunged forward.

She felt time start to slow as a warning shout from behind her. She turned as fast as she could, but it felt like she was moving through glue. There was a young man standing behind Claire now, close enough to hug her. Cas watched as his arm moved forward, pressing something against her lover’s back. Daryl yelled something that Cas couldn’t hear as he violently pulled the boy away.

Cas’ eyes rose met Claire’s, which smiled back at her even as blood started to soak through the front of her shirt and she began to slowly fall.


	14. Reckoning

Cas shouted something and pulled out her pistol, running over and standing over the young man. _She’ll put him down like a dog_ , Elliot thought from outside his body, seeing the whole thing from above.

A quiet voice brought him back into his body and stopped Cas in her tracks. “Cas, stop!” Claire demanded authoritatively despite the amount of blood she’d already lost. It was pooling slowly, just a slight sliver of a dark shadow beneath her. “It could be him, Cas.”

Cas didn’t lower her weapon right away, but her hand shook visibly until she dropped her arm. Daryl raised his own gun to make sure the young man didn’t hurt anyone else, leaving Cas free to run to Claire. She knelt by the other girl’s head and tried to make her more comfortable, but it was obviously useless. Elliot couldn’t hear what she was saying, but from the look on Claire’s face, it was something reassuring that neither of them believed.

“No, Cas. Look at me, I’m dying.”

“You can’t,” Cas said, eyes watering. “I can’t survive in this world if you’re not in it.”

“You have to,” Claire insisted. “Find the cure. Go to...Washington.” Elliot turned away as her speech started to slow. “Save the world. I’ll be with you...the whole time.”

Cas kept shaking her head as Elliot steeled himself and went to kneel by Claire’ side, trying to keep his face straight as her blood started to soak through his jeans. She took his hand.

“You two have to get over...what’s in the past...and look after each other. All of you.” She looked around, encompassing J and Isaac in her gaze, as well as all of Rick’s group. “No matter what happens...all you have is each other.”

“We will,” Elliot promised when Cas tried to speak but choked on the words.

“Good. One last thing,” she added, “Burn my body. Spread some of the ashes...to the wind, and keep the rest...in the music library. Whenever you listen to a song...I’ll be listening too.”

J said quietly, “Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll find you a nice urn, or maybe a vase if that’s all that’s available.”

Claire chuckled. “Thanks, J. Look after...these two, okay? And Isaac, look after her. Everyone...be safe.” Her eyes started to glaze, but she looked around, taking in everyone around her one last time. “It was nice to...meet all of you.”

At this point, Carl had made his way to her side, watching her die with a perverse fascination. None of them could have looked away if they wanted to. The boy whispered, “Don’t be scared. It’s gonna be okay.”

With her last breath, Claire replied, “Ha! I’m not...afraid.” And then her eyes were empty.

A high noise escaped from Cas, a noise that usually preceded sobbing, but she pressed her lips together and stood, dashing the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.

Gabriel began to mutter. “We sinners beseech you, to hear us, Lord Christ, that it may please you to deliver the soul of your servant from the power of evil…”

“What did she mean, it could be me?” Claire’s killer demanded. Cas slowly turned to look at him, her eyes dark with hatred. She took a step towards him, and he matched it with a small step back.

“Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us...”

“You better hope it’s you, you prick,” Cas told the young man, leaning into his personal space. “You’d better pray. Because as soon as I know it’s not, I WILL kill you.” His eyes widened at the promise, although he tried to remain aloof.

“Get them to the trucks,” Cas said to everyone else. “We’ve got work to do.”

…

By the time night fell, they’d already made it back to the school and gotten their prisoners settled in their cells, which Glenn and Maggie had made in the locker rooms while Rosita had taken care of Judith. Cas went and hid in her room as soon as they got home, refusing to help because she ran the risk of seeing the body wrapped in a white sheet that was lying in the back of one of the trucks. They’d decided to put off burning it until the next day to reduce the likelihood that the flames and smoke would attract the dead. It would stay in the industrial refrigerator in the back of the cafeteria until then.

Cas had been sitting in her room with the lights off for hours, trying desperately not to feel, when she heard someone knock quietly on her door. She didn’t respond, but they opened it anyways and stepped through. She kept her back to them

“Are you ever going to come out?” Elliot asked. She kept quiet. “We’re planning a little memorial and everyone’s wondering if you’d like to say something.” Still, she didn’t reply. He let out a dissatisfied huff. “Look, I know you’re upset, but this was always a possibility, right? You really cared about her, sure - we all did - but it’s not like we haven’t lost people before.”

Cas could feel her anger forming a burning knot in her stomach. The heat rose up her throat and poured out as words. “How dare you?” She snapped, standing and turning to face him. “How dare you speak to me that way? I died today. Don’t tell me that this is the same as every time because it’s not. It’s not even close. Maybe you can write it off as just another casualty, but I can’t.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Elliot protested, but his words fell on deaf ears. She picked up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder, pushing past him and out the door. He followed her out of the band room quietly, but when she turned left to exit the building, he grabbed her arm to stop her. “Where are you going?”

“None of your business,” she snapped, wrenching her arm away. J and Isaac came wandering down the hallway from the cafeteria, hurrying when they saw the other two members of their group.

“Tell her she can’t leave,” Elliot demanded when they were level with him. Neither of them said anything; they just looked at Cas with pity and understanding. “It’s dark, and the sounds of the trucks earlier attracted the dead,” Elliot protested further. “You won’t make it through the night.”

“Let her go,” J said quietly. Elliot made a distressed sound, but the older woman shook her head at him and he took a reluctant step back.

Cas nodded to her gratefully as Isaac headed to the camera room. A moment later there was a quiet thunk as the door unlocked. Cas pulled it open and slipped through. Elliot heard Isaac’s voice say goodbye through the speaker; then the door closed and she was gone.

“What if she dies out there?” Elliot asked J without looking at her.

“If she does, we’ll know it’s what she wanted. She’ll be able to make her own choice. If we force her to stay, she’ll hate us forever.”

“It’s not what Claire would have wanted.”

“Who gives a fuck?” J asked, blinking calmly at him. “Claire’s dead. She doesn’t have to exist without her closest friend in a world where there’s not much else to live for. Who gives a fuck what she would have wanted? That doesn’t matter any more! What matters is what Cas wants, because she’s still alive. She has to make the choice for herself.”

Elliot shrugged. “I guess.” He turned away from the door and headed back to his room, leaving J to stare after their friend.

…

“What if she never comes back?” Isaac asked early the next morning. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Probably just go on like normal,” J shrugged.

“What if she’s dead?”

“What if she’s not?”

“She’s a strong girl,” Gabriel interjected. “I’m sure she’s still alive. This place might be too painful for her right now; it might have too many memories.” The rest of Rick’s group nodded soberly.

They were back in the cafeteria (there was nowhere else to go, really) debating whether to go on with the burning without Cas. Since they didn’t know where she’d gone, if she was coming back, or whether she was even still alive, it was a complicated decision. Rick’s group was mostly staying out of it, which Elliot appreciated. They’d gotten a little off topic, which was understandable considering how upset everyone was, so Elliot tried to steer them back on track.

“We have to come to an agreement at some point,” he said. “With Cas gone, it’s up to the three of us. Isaac, what do you think we should do?”

“I think we should wait for Cas,” Isaac mumbled miserably. He wasn’t taking her disappearance very well. It would have been different if he’d seen her die - at least then, he’d know the whole story. But the idea that she was out there, probably still alive, weighed on him.

“Look, you spend most of your time in the camera room, so you have a limited view of the outside world,” J told him. “I’ve been scouting off this building every day since we got here, and I’ve seen and learned enough to say that now is the best time. The number of those things changes as rapidly as the weather, and we’re in a dry spell right now. If we wait even a day, a herd could go by a few miles away that keeps us in for another three. We can’t have her in there that long,” she said, gesturing to the refrigerator in the back of the room.

“Is that all you care about? How long her body will keep? What do you think Cas will do when she comes back and we’ve gone through with it without her?”

They bickered back and forth for a few more minutes before Isaac finally caved.  They all got up and headed outside to build the pyre on the football field, which was the only wide, clear area where they could safely build such a large fire. There were a half-dozen pine trees nearby for shade, which they cut down and used to build the pyre.

After only a couple hours, they decided they had enough fuel. They carried out Claire’s body, still wrapped in a white sheet, and placed her inside the pyre. Without much ado, they lit the wood; the whole pile was ablaze within minutes.

Gabriel, who was always prepared for such things, said a few words. Then it was quiet, except for the crackling and sparking of the wood. Elliot closed his eyes and thought about Claire in her best moments, ignoring the memories that surfaced of her bad days. He wished they’d been able to help her in some way, but since she’d never talked about what she’d been going through, they hadn’t known what to say.

He sighed as a warm breeze blew through, fanning the flames even further. It’s too late to think about any of that now, he told himself. He listened hard to the sound of the wood and one of his closest friends burn.

His ears picked up another soft sound that steadily grew louder as he listened. “Do you hear that?” He asked aloud, feeling J shift next to him.

“Yeah, I hear it.”

He opened his eyes and looked around as everyone focused on the sound of an automobile engine approaching down the main driveway. Soon their missing pickup truck came into view and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The back was full of large, bulky objects, but Elliot couldn’t tell what they were from such a large distance.

They all watched as Cas climbed out of the driver’s side, carrying something. She made her way out to the field; as she got closer Elliot saw it was a thin white box, which she handed to Eugene when she reached the group.

Isaac gave her a short hug, which she returned. “Sorry we started,” he said, “we just didn’t know what you’d be back.”

“It’s okay,” she said, gazing at the tall flames.

“What did you do out there?” Elliot asked.

“Yeah, what’s all that stuff?” J added.

She didn’t answer, just turned to Eugene and said, “Open it.” He complied and immediately looked up at her, one eyebrow raised.

“What’s in there?” Daryl asked when no one else did. Eugene carefully turned the box around, showing them a neat row of 12 sterile syringes.

“I made a couple stops at the local hospitals,” Cas told them. “I’m pretty sure I got everything we need to make the tests.” She gave the pyre one last, long look before adding, “If no one minds, I think it might be good to start setting everything up now.”

They all shared a glance, then nodded their assent, following her back to the truck to start unloading. Everyone left except for J, who sat in the bleachers and picked off any of the dead that came close, attracted by the light and smoke of the now-dying funeral pyre.

 


	15. Another Beginning

Two weeks later, there still wasn’t any news.

Eugene and Cas were in the lab all day and all night, but they couldn’t get any reactions from any of the samples. Every morning, Rick, Elliot, and Daryl went out and got fresh cells from the Walkers that crossed their paths. Glenn and Maggie were in charge of the prisoners. Most of them had realized at that point that the worst that would happen to them was a needle in their arm or a swab in their mouth once every few days, so that job was relatively easy.

Rick could tell everyone else felt useless. He tried to keep them busy and give them jobs when he could, but none of them were used to menial tasks. He could feel them getting restless, especially Abraham. He explained to them that these things took time, but it didn’t make a difference. Any day now, they would want to move on.

They were sitting in the cafeteria, trying really hard not to talk about it. It was lunchtime, but no one was eating. The usually loud and happy conversation had faded into a dull, uneasy murmur that made Rick’s head spin. What could he do?

At that moment, footsteps sounded from the hallway, moving fast. Everyone quieted and looked up as Cas ran into the room. She stopped and bent over, putting her hands on her knees and gasping for air.

“What’s wrong?” Rick asked, half standing.

“You guys…aren’t gonna believe – Jesus H. Christ.” She stood up and tried to take a deep breath.

“What is it?” Daryl asked impatiently.

“What’s the matter?” Carol added.

“Calm down, damn,” she said, raising her hands. She inhaled, looking over the crowd that was hanging on to her every word. “One of the tests came back positive.”

Their eyes widened. Glenn asked, “Really?” In a voice that sounded like it had forgotten how to hope.

“Eugene’s running the samples again, but we’re pretty sure this is for real,” Cas insisted.

Rick had imagined this moment a thousand times in his head. He’d seen hugs, kisses, people laughing and tearing up from the overwhelming joy that was engulfing them. But there was none of that in the real world. Instead, a silence like death fell over them. He fell back down into his seat, clasping his hands in his lap to keep them from shaking.

The cure.

“Shit, that jerk actually pulled it off,” Abraham mused aloud. “Looks like we’re headed to D.C. after all.”

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**Well that’s it ya’ll. That’s the end! Thanks so much to everyone who read any part of this, and thanks for the kind reviews. Hopefully I’ll get more inspiration soon and bring another story to those of you who liked this one!**


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